


♥ 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒢𝑒𝓉 𝒯𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒪𝒻 𝑅𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝐼𝓉 ♥

by HecoHansen31



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Dom/sub Play, F/M, Height difference, Mention of butt stuff, Slight Dirty Talk and Degradation, Slight Violence, and Roman Being A Tad Misogynistic, mention of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecoHansen31/pseuds/HecoHansen31
Summary: Making you angry is Roman’s favorite pasttime and believe me when I say that you also enjoy it thoroughly.
Relationships: Roman Godfrey/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	♥ 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝒢𝑒𝓉 𝒯𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒪𝒻 𝑅𝓊𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝐼𝓉 ♥

You had sprinted in the room without even knocking.

And if there was one thing that Roman had learned about you was that it meant that you were pissed.

You were demure and shy, scared to even utter a noise that would reveal yourself to the world, although he knew that it was just a brilliant pretense, a game of treacherous masks, hiding a natural predator.

Exactly like him.

But he knew that you didn’t like any kind of raised octaves and even more than that you didn’t like making scenes.

Attracting the attention on yourself in a way that you found ‘downright tacky and absurd’.

The same attention he loved on himself.

So, he wasn’t surprised by you barging in, probably bringing him something that he had forgotten something at home.

Was it his lunch or his computer, this time?

He sometimes would leave those things back at home just for you to pretend that you were seriously annoyed by his ‘lack of memory and ability to take care of himself’, calling him a ‘machild’ with the same swiftness that you fell on your knees to let him know that you needed him as much as he needed you.

And the reason why a ring shone onto your ring finger was probably that unspoken deal between you two onto who held the power in the relationship.

And onto who held it behind closed doors.

You were fuming still a bit too much for a simple forgotten computer and any kind of roleplay you had in mind must have gone a bit too far in your mind to allow this to happen, as you lost control in a way that Roman found delightfully messy and yet so tasteful that he could feel his teeth sinking in the soft flesh of his plump lips.

Would you have pushed him around a bit?

Roughed him up with the extra strength that you owned.

Or would you have taken what you had come here for and leave him there unsatisfied and painfully hard, waiting for the revenge at home with your fingers mixed of the reminder of your joined ‘little death’.

Either way, he perceived anything like a win.

And he calmly pushed his head back onto the collar of the thick leather chair he was sat onto, pushing his whole body in display for you, as some kind of feathered idiot trying to conquer your sense to have his own ‘lunch break’.

He liked the fight as much as the quickies.

But you didn’t seem interested in staring at his thin frame, something feminine that contrasted powerfully with the utter danger that he could have been for you.

And you were never scared of him.

And that was why he fucking loved you.

You didn’t speak, after your sudden outburst and for a moment he thought that it was part of some kind of play, till he noticed you doing a swift gesture as you took in your left hand, probably to stretch out your fingers, but then pulling onto a special finger, your ring one.

And then you pulled onto the elegant diamond ring you had chosen for yourself, after Roman had brought you from shop to shop, even ordering some samples from ‘Tiffany & Co’, but you had wanted some old thing you had found in an antiquities store.

‘Does it make you happy?’ he had muttered as you pondered buying it, meanwhile the clerk behind the desk looked at you as if you were his last hope and seeing the price tag of the pretty thing, you must have been.

‘… yeah’ your eyebrows were scrunched up and Roman knew that you were thinking this through just a bit too much.

And with a shameless jovial thrill, he pushed one of his hands onto the back of your pants.

The show carefully hid from the clerk by his tall frame and the desk between him and the clients, and he toyed with the small jeweled preciousness, nestled in your ass, which he had created with the few sample of diamonds you had refused.

It wasn’t a complete diamond plug, much to your protest of ‘those things being as cutting as a kitchen knives’, but he had managed to make a small heart solely for you, getting you to hid a smirk underneath a scowl at his comment ‘that’s my heart given for you’.

‘… does it satisfy you?’ he had then muttered when he had felt you relax, closing your eyes as your fingers replied the expert gestures that he did on the plug onto the clear creation that was the vintage ring.

‘Yes…’ it had been so breathy to appear intelligible, but he still remembered it.

And for a moment he was worried that your sudden refusal of the engagement ring would have brought you two onto a desperate search for another one, although your wedding was scheduled for a month later.

But you were his fucking princess so he would have done it gladly, with a smile on his face.

And a few glasses of champagne and, if you hadn’t noticed, a few tubes of coke.

“… we are done” you muttered as you slammed the ring onto his polished table, cracking the glass of it with your strength and almost risking of breaking the whole thing.

Thankfully, Pryce had upyr-proofed the whole thing.

“Because you grow tired of that stupid ring?” he muttered, sure that this was some kind of funny joke, although your mouth was again in a tight scowl.

The kind that you would have done if you had found out about the coke still stashed in his private study.

“No because you fucking fucktard cheated on me!”.

That was new.

He couldn’t remember his dick having been in somebody else that wasn’t you.

And he remembered perfectly the last time it had been inside of your tight and carnal canal.

A few days had passed since then and he couldn’t deny that he had noticed a growing distance from your side, but he had blamed it onto your own treatments with Pryce, making you either deadly tired or recklessly unrelenting.

It had been a quick fuck, both of you rushing through your own things, but the way your nurse uniform was laying onto you tiredly, as you tried to adjust it, distracted by the glorious sight of a naked Roman in the mirror of your vanity, was just too tempting for him.

He knew that his mind tricks never worked on you, but he had still ordered you to come to him and for the following half an hour, you hadn’t done anything else.

And now you were accusing him like that.

This must have been something new that you wanted to try.

He would have preferred that you discussed it with him, but he thought that in the end surprise only made the whole thing better.

Maybe you would have slapped him around and then he would have bent you over the desk to have you in a way that was so sinful that everybody in the office would have known where your slight limp came from.

“… oh you caught me” he muttered raising his hand in front of himself, as if to surrender himself to the evidence that you brought, but with the way your eyes shone of a pure apathy he wondered if he had done the right thing and quickly added “… I fucked my fucking fist this morning thinking of fucking those two beautiful tits, although if you think that isn’t technically cheating, because I thought…”.

“Stop the fucking bullshit”.

Slapping him would have hurt him less.

And he understood that you weren’t joking.

Whatever surge of anger had gone through your body disappeared as you stumbled a few steps backwards and then slammed a foot down, this time definitely breaking the elegant marble floor he had chosen for his office, suggested by you.

What the fuck was going on?

“I am not stopping the fucking bullshit, because, little bitch of mine, I have no idea what you are talking about” his anger was meant to fucking stimulate yours, because he couldn’t handle your sadness.

And thankfully you reacted as he had expected you to.

You came around so swiftly the desk to come face to face with him that all he needed was a blink to find you straight up in front of him with a small smirk onto his face.

He examined what you had worn, having chosen carefully something that appeased him very much as if you had by now completely meshed up his and your tastes in a way that made you feel undoubtedly made for him and solely him.

And that was why he wouldn’t have pushed his dick into somebody else.

“… oh yeah of fucking course” your tone had lost a bit of its original anger and suddenly Roman found himself losing any last pretending emotion of this being solely some kind of sexy game between you two.

You were downright erratic.

“… I am a fucking idiot…” you huffed out, probably having just realized the wrongness of your actions, just to pin Roman strongly against the chair he was sat onto “… I even fucking expected you to confess… I shouldn’t forget that you are a professional liar, took it after your mother…”.

He had enough.

Because if there was one thing of your whole deal that still made him panic badly was the strength and knowledge of his weaknesses you had, being able to use them with the same venom Roman used when he wanted to degrade you in the bedroom.

But with you it was consensual.

But with him…

… it was an untouchable subject.

And he pushed you back, although he was careful in dosing his upir strength, as he simultaneously raised up from the chair, revealing his taller figure, looming over you in a way that showed perfectly your height difference.

And he saw immediately the effect that it had onto your restless energy.

He could smell it in the air, the way your arousal wasn’t hidden underneath your usual softer smell.

And for a moment he knew that he had knife by its handle.

You couldn’t ever stay mad at him when you were horny.

And discovering that his strength somehow made you feel this way, he would have used to his own advantage, pinning you lightly against the wall, his nails sinking and creating lines in that he knew he would have paid dearly.

But he could see the way your pupils became full-blown at that show of utter power.

“… you don’t talk to me like that” his hands pushed itself on your throat, and you allowed him with a deep fire in your eyes “… you don’t fucking bring up my mother in here, even more when I want to fucking bend you over this desk”.

“Bend your fucking bitch over it” you shot back but the bite you had had at the start of this conversation, and he could feel the way you were melting underneath him and he knew that he would have found you wet had he reached in your panties.

“… well, you are my favorite bitch so…”.

“So, there are others”.

He slammed you at that against the desk and you mumbled in what sounded like a painful moan, but as he came closer he felt the way your breath was caught in your throat, signaling that you were enjoying it.

You certainly had stopped thinking everything that plagued your mind.

And he wanted to take your mind off of it.

Completely.

“Yeah of course there are others” he leaned closer to your ear, as he pushed your head to turn lightly so that he could lightly bit on the luxurious side of your neck, making you finally moan in utter pleasure “… it’s your fucking personalities, my dear”.


End file.
